He woke not long after, jolted awake in the midst of some tense dream he couldn’t remember. Blake slept obliviously against him, snoring lightly into the crook of his shoulder. They stayed that way as long as they could. With minimal time to spare, Cal extricated himself from Blake, woke him gently by kissing his temple, a slow brush of lips over his hairline. Preparing for the concert felt like bracing himself for war. He changed into his last clean pair of jeans and an old Denver Cutthroats shirt, the fish logo just about washed off the fabric. Once he’d changed, he loitered outside Blake’s room, just in case. Rhett was nowhere to be seen. They caught up with Erica, Jake, and Carlo in the lobby. Lily was already at the venue doing an interview for Bitch magazine. Who knew where Rhett had gone. Management and the other crew? Who knew. The fleet of vans that followed their buses from gig to gig had already begun carting their accoutrements to UNLV’s arena.
